The Chains That Bind Me
by Richard.B.Potter0907
Summary: "You keep what you kill," the boy's soft tenor voice rings throughout the hall as if he had shouted. He finally glances up at me allowing, briefly, killing curse green eyes to lock with swirling luminescent mercury.
1. Preface

Disclaimer: I unfortunately don't own any of what I'm messing with. If I did the movies and books would have come out totally different.

A/N: I really hope that you enjoy. I must warn you, however, I am a college student, and while I will try to continue this as much as I can I will be slow in posting. I also enjoy feedback as much as possible, so please don't be afraid to comment, good or bad I want it all. Finally one more note before we get to the story, I am unsure of who's POV I will be sticking with, I have most of the next chapter written out in Harry's so idk... Anyways... enjoy.

Riddick

The sound of my blade breaking off in the 'Half-Dead' man's skull was one of the most satisfying noises that I've been blessed with in a while. The look of betrayal and sudden realization that he was dying will help me to sleep for months to come, _if I live that long_ , I think ruefully as I take in the sheer number of the Legion Vast, as they call it, currently surrounding me. I look on with an open expression of sick joy as he slowly fell, the thick armor making a reverberating noise around the abnormally quiet room as the artificial gravity pulled him down, revealing the surprise and fearful look on Vaako's face while his body remained frozen in the would-be killing blow. "NOO!" the traitor's wife wails from the balcony as the man before me finally stills in death.

 ** _Jack!_** The thought alone shocks my body into moving, leaving their Lord Marshal's body to stain the floor with his cooling blood, I quickly make my way to reach her side, _just this once, please_ , I silently plead with my most hated deity. Gently reaching out to cradle her in my arms, her head resting in the crook of my elbow and the rest of her was shielded by my crouched form, fear lanced my chest as I manipulated her body too easily. My fear darkened into something that I couldn't describe as I noticed that her eyes were darkening and the feel, and smell, of her warm blood pooling in my hands and dripping onto my pants from her wounds, she was already dead her brain had yet to catch up to that fact.

I held the small pain filled noises escaping from my throat with an iron will as I could feel her slowly slipping away from life, away from me. "Are you with me J..Kyra?" I ground out as I forced her to look at me. I barely catch my slip up in time in my grief, _careless_ , I reprimand as I listen to her heart beat slower and slower.

"I'm. With you." Her choked words bring more blood to her mouth. Tears being to gather in her hazel eyes as her calloused hand comes up and caresses my cheek, and if I moved just so that she didn't miss, she'll never know. "I've always. Been. With you." She whispers.

It feels as if time has slowed down making every moment, every detail, permanently etched into my memory. Her smell changing from spice and spirit and **freedom** , to cold and a scent only death cloaks us in. Helplessness grips me as I held her and did nothing; nothing but holding her blind gaze with mine until the last moment, till her eyes dark with death closed for the last time. I hold in my own pain so that she can pass with as much peace as I can make for her in this hellish place with its tortured statues. It's the least I can do, when I was the one that walked away, _"Just when she needed you the most,"_ Imam's words ring in my mind. The single tear that escapes from beneath her lids almost breaks my stoic silence as I watch it slowly carve a path across her face to her hairline.

Levering myself onto the nearest flat surface I allow a moment to grieve for the little girl that I couldn't save, holding my head between my hands covered in her blood I struggle with the unfamiliar urge to cry. I can feel bodies pressing on me, closing the space between them and I, for the moment I don't care, _let one stupid motherfucker come at me right now_ , the familiar bloodlust mixes with my grief causing my limbs to tingle with adrenaline and the animalistic need to rend flesh from bone. The boy kneeling next to my seat almost surprises me into attacking, until a moment before he moved I had not noticed him, _interesting_.

He slowly stands, back straight as if he senses my tension, and just as delicately walks in front of me, descending a few stairs down so that I alone was on the top tier of the raised dais. A strange black metal collar around his neck, like the ones that I had seen earlier on my first visit, is a stark contrast to the pale color of his skin. _Slave?_ His simple clothing, made of the same scale material but less adornments than those around him, stimulating the idea that he was a servant of the now dead dick cooling on the floor just a few meters from us.

Keeping his eyes downcast in a clear show of submission, the effect of this not lost on me as I can feel my hackles beginning to smooth back out, he begins to kneel before me. He slowly bends one knee after the other keeping his back straight, the feeling of wrongness in the situation makes me raise a bloody eyebrow. The boy had power, I could taste it on him, but here he was kneeling before me, _who are you?_ I ponder with interest. Distracting me from my musings as the chain reaction of the room slowly kneeling before me comes as a bit of a surprise. Even Vaako reluctantly kneels. Even Dame Vaako, who must have come down from the balcony while I was distracted, is forced to lower herself as well when it's obvious that everyone gathered is following the lead of this servant, _very interesting_.

"You keep what you kill," the boy's soft tenor voice rings throughout the hall as if he had shouted. He finally glances up at me allowing, briefly, glittering emerald green eyes to lock with swirling luminescent mercury.


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: I have successfully changed the wording in the previous chapter. Thank you everyone who pointed out to me my mistake, I don't know how I didn't think of that. Anyways, please drop me more reviews, I love all the feedback.

Harry

I shiver at the intensity swirling in the strange glowing eyes that meet mine for one fleeting glance before I remember my place and focus my eyes on the floor in front of me. After a few breaths, I rise from my lowered position, the rustle of fabric and the scraping of weapons off the floor alerts me to the rest of the crowd gathered behind me following my lead. The Collar of the Right-Hand feels heavy and warm around my neck, _well that can't be good_ , I file the sensation away to be examined later.

I can make out some of the new Lord Marshal before me through my lowered lashes, but I had gotten my fill as the battle between this new man, _Riddick,_ I remember, and Zhylaw stretched on past comfortable levels for me. Golden skin stretched over prominent muscles, shaved head catching the light coming from above as he moved with a feline grace, the sheer dominate power flowing off him in waves was an intoxicating sight. Now the power is mixed with pain, a quick flash of Hermione fills my brain, _I wonder who she was,_ I think distractedly.

"What are your orders, my Lord?" I ask him, I can feel all eyes on me as my quite voice breaks through the silence for a second time.

"Everyone out," He orders, his voice rough, as he sits straighter on the throne, "Everyone but you," He quietly amends lifting a sure to be calloused finger singling me out, _really Fate? Couldn't cut me just_ _ **one**_ _break_ , I think dismayed once again by my luck, _or lack thereof_.

I hold myself still as everyone clears out of the chamber, a surge of adrenaline kicks my senses into high gear throwing me into a hyper-aware state and forcing my senses to stretch to their limits to pick up everything around me; the shift in air as everyone hasten to obey, the temperature dropping drastically from the sudden removal of almost all the heat, the chills that run rampant up and down my spine, the crashing sound of metal and leather soles echoing through the Great Hall, the almost silent whispers breaking out through the crowd. The silence that descends on us as Vaako closes the door, his parting glance mirroring my inner dread and confusion, almost deafens me with its lack of sound.

The sound of my own heartbeat pulses in my ears steadily as I wait for him to speak. Long minutes stretch out between us, making my 'danger senses' tingle, and I silently thank Snape for this exact treatment that left me with the ability to wait it out without fidgeting.

"What do you do with your dead?" his voice was rough, with emotion or disuse I couldn't tell.

"Necromonger's have different Rites, based on their position. Lord Marshal Zhylaw will be cleansed and placed with his predecessors in the Hall of Morning, so that those who wish to can visit his remains."

"And Kyra?" he demanded in a whisper, his head jerking toward her body scant meters away.

"Her soul will be cherished and her body cremated, her ashes scattered in space, sending them to the Underverse with honor and ceremony," I slowly reply as memories of different funerals surfaced, _bury them in glistening white tombs so that loved one can mourn and find comfort._

"Do it," He demanded. Turning on the spot I gratefully slide down the stairs toward the door. Snapping my wrist at the two bodies on the floor they obediently lifted off the floor and fell in behind me. "Wait for me before _your_ ceremony," he calls before I leave the Hall.

"As you wish it, my Lord," I whisper as I turn and bow low, one arm extended beside me the other held diagonally across my chest to curl around my heart. Dame Vaako was just outside, her glimmering dress a dead giveaway, and my show would heckle her more than she will ever admit out loud. _She will start the Challenge,_ I smile with the thought and turn to leave shadowed by the two levitated cadavers, looking up at him my smile fades at the calculating look within the mysterious eyes.

The doors closed behind me as I left, but his look was burned into my retinas as I walked down the familiar halls of the Basilica toward the Bath Houses. I was down one master but had gained a new one, _no wonder Snape was grumpy._

"I wonder how you fit into the equation now," Aereon spoke, falling into step beside me.

"I told you before Elemental, I've had one too many fortune-tellers predict my future," I glance beside me just to watch her figure fade and reform with her constant breeze for a second, "I like to be surprised every now and then." I grin.

"This is no laughing matter young man," she scolded me, the twitch in her lip giving away her amusement. Her amusement fell away as she continued, "There are many outcomes that come with change, and Riddick has always been, and will always be a wild card."

"Yeah, yeah," I murmur flippantly with a wave of my hand, "Now leave me, Witch, I have tasks to complete before I can see to the many ceremonies that will take up this next few cycles."

Fading away after a small incline of her head, I rounded the last corner and the steam from the Baths began to fog my vision.

 _Wildcard, I wonder what he will do now that he has a willing army at his beck and call_ , I muse as I carefully hand the bodies to the attendants waiting just within. "Lord Marshal has requested that all ceremony be postponed until he can attend to them. Please cleanse both of them, but that is all," I order.

"Yes Right Hand," came their immediate reply.

Leaving without a backward glance, I start toward my chambers to start the endless orders to the countless menials and servants so that all the headache inducing ceremonies can be organized. _Damn spectacle-loving race_ , I grouse mentally.


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: I have enjoyed all the feedback that I get from everyone, thank you so much.

Harry

Closing the doors to the Lord Marshal's chambers I slowly breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing my hands over my face a few times. "Ok, first things first," I said out-loud to myself as I walked over to the terminal and leaned against the side-table sized platform of the controls. "MedBay," I clearly spoke as I waved my hand over the black sphere embedded into the center.

"Yes Right-Hand?" an unfamiliar female voice promptly replied.

"Send Thomas to the Great Hall to tend to the Lord Marshal Riddick's wounds immediately," I ordered gently.

She couldn't hide the sharp intake of breath at my pronouncement, "As you command," she finally said and we disconnected.

Turning around in the familiar space my thoughts once again fell on the new developments that transpired not but half an hour ago, _Merlin what's going to happen now?_ I mused as I walked around the antechamber, which Zhylaw used as informal meeting space when battle-plans would extend far into the night. _Aereon's right, this man is definitely a wild card, that's for sure, but what is he going to do now that he has an unstoppable army at his back?_ I continued to think as I went on auto-pilot toward the large arch in the far left corner leading toward the bedchamber.

The metal sarcophagus that served as a bed, raised up on a dais, dominated the second room, and was as grotesque as the twisted statues that invaded everywhere within the Armada. Tortured formed rose up from the four corners and shimmering dark red curtains were draped along the top in-between their interlocking fingers. _I wonder why the Collar got so warm when I kneeled before him,_ with that my thoughts went through the years and began to shift through to compare the sensation with memories.

Passing through to the hallway to the right of the bed I felt some of the tension in my shoulders lessen and my fruitless mental searching quieted as I walked into the small space beyond. Running my hand through my rebellious raven hair I sat down in front of the well-worn oak writing desk, the window overlooking a tranquil lake showed that the sun was setting, throwing it's rays onto the black sphere embedded in the middle of the desk. I passed my hand over the sphere, "Padfoot," I spoke the password and the air filled with overlapping screens each vying for my attention. Blowing a stray hair out of my face I settled more comfortably into the squishy chair, _alright where to begin?_

"Right-Hand!" a disembodied male voice shouted, sending me reeling out of the chair and unceremoniously on my ass.

"For Baylock's Sake, What?!" I scrambled to my feet, my mood souring instantly as my short-lived reprieve was shattered.

"My apologies, but the Lord Marshal…"

"Is demanding my presence," I interrupted, deadpanned. _Well,_ _ **that**_ _didn't take very long,_ I thought torn between amusement and annoyance. "Yes, tell him I shall make no delay to his side." Cutting the connection with a sharp pass of my hand I made my way out and toward the Great Hall with purposeful strides, _well you know what they say about rest and the wicked._

Riddick

No sooner had the petite man left with Kyra than the masses swarmed back into the large room at an alarming rate. Pulling my goggles down I lounged on the metal throne in mock relaxation and began my game.

Behind the blacked out surface of my goggles, my eyes darted around the room uninhibited committing the faces that eyes showed challenge, _145x120 feet, that's roughly 300 people give or take… 75, 76, 77… lot of brave men in the crowd as well might want to learn names soon._ I breathed deep through my nose several times disassembling the complex mingling of scents, _that's the Snake's perfume wonder what she's after… no Vaako, interesting… hmmm, lilies? That man maybe?_ Flicking my tongue out between my lips to taste the air I continued my catalog of the details around me genuinely enjoying myself in the moment, _sweat, metal, leather, testosterone… men to woman ratio skewed toward men makes sense._ The feel of vibrations through the throne traveled up through my body gently, _wonder what kind of energy system they use 'cause damn this ride is smooth._ Grinning at the idea of strolling around the new technology, causing several within the immediate area around the steps to flinch visibly. I focused on the humming buzz of voices around me, _"The last of the Furyans? You're sure?"… "Did you see that smile? Creepy."… "A breeder on the throne, Covu is raging in the Underverse right now."… "Vaako has hidden, the coward, he should face his Due Time with honor."… "Did you see how the Right-Hand treated the Lord Marshal on his way out?"_

 _'_ _The Right-Hand'_ , just the title felt wrong to me even in my thoughts. Abandoning all but the basic scrutiny of the room before me I ran through the short interaction between me and this Right-Hand, latching onto a puzzle like a hype to morphine, _anything to ignore this pain_. The power that surrounded that man was palpable, but muted as if caged somehow. The flash of his eyes showed years of harsh treatment and loss, understandable being in this small corner of purgatory, _but how did he get here in the first place?_ He had that feeling of an outsider, even without the evidence of the crowd parting before him when he left blatantly obvious, there was just **something** that seemed to scream 'I don't belong here.'

The double doors remained open after the mass influx of bodies, the crowd still spilling out through them in fact, and a new arrival caused a ripple in the throng of Necro's. My interest piqued I followed the older man as he made his was steadily towards me. When he reached the bottom he bowed far lower than I thought his humped back would allow. "Lord Marshal, I am Thomas, a loyal subject if it pleases you."

"Sure, why not," I replied, discomfort strummed through me momentarily before I buried it.

"I was sent by your Right-Hand, Lord. He said that there were certain matters that required my special attentions. Please, may we talk more privately, I'm afraid that large crowds agitate me beyond distraction."

My whole body tensed as years of survival instincts kicked in, and caused several parts of my anatomy to cry out in indignation. "Sure, lead the way." I nod after I take my time to evaluate the level of danger, _one's better than hundreds,_ I finally reason with myself peeling out of the throne, my relaxed demeanor hopefully covering up how difficult it actually was for me to move.

The man shuffled toward one of the many doors leading off the side of the room and I followed with caution. The door led to a smaller room, perfect for one-to-one discussions, with a set of chairs opposite a table. A quick glance about revealed one of the distorted statues shadowed in a corner as Thomas bowed me through the door, but no other decorations seemed to be present.

"Ok, so let me see the damage," the wise voice encouraged. Lifting a bloody brow I pull my blood soaked tank over my head and toss it on the table with an audible splat. Clicking his tongue behind his teeth in distaste he pulled numerous vials from his sleeves, each one looking worse than the last, and organized them on the table. "Your Hand was right, good thing he called me," he muttered distractedly. "After this I humbly suggest the Lord take a reprieve from the Great Hall and enjoy his chambers," he continued as he began the parade of bottles from the table to me.

Deciding, impulsively, that I wanted answers I pinned Thomas with a menacing stare, "Summon the Right-Hand," my voice low. When he made no move toward the door I smiled before shouting, "NOW!" with just enough of my ever boiling rage thrown into my voice that caused him to jump and outside the crowd stilled momentarily before taking off in a frenzy.


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you all for the continued reviews, it has helped a lot in making sure that this thing keeps going. Enjoy.

Harry

The crowd parted for me, those nearest bowing, as I strolled into the Great Hall and made my way over to the door that the Collar informed me that the Lord Marshal was in. My trip back was spent agonizing over the strange behavior the Collar had developed in less than an hour, _could it be the change?_ Never once had the Collar reacted to Zhylaw, sure he could control it but it had never led me to him or, _or whatever happened when I kneeled._

Bowing minutely in return to Marie, Thomas' assistant, I walked in without a backward glance, the eyes of the room bearing down on my back. I saw Thomas first, and at his disgruntled expression, so similar to a certain Potion Masters, I had to dissuade the grin that twitched the corners of my mouth. Dismissing him out of the room with a nod, I turn my full focus to the equally glowering aura surrounding the newly ascended Lord Marshal. "Thank you, Thomas," I call as he closes the door, never moving my lowered gaze of the Lord Marshal's boots, "How may you Right-Hand serve you, Lord?"

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you," came the growled response.

The words were the same that Zhylaw had said to me so long ago that a startled giggle wormed out of me as I replied with the same words that I had used that day as well, "Because out of the three brother's I alone walk with Death like an old friend."

The barking laugh I got was colored with amusement, "Than it's good for you that I'm known as Death then. Alright, tell me what is in those tubes." His head nods in the direction of the table, his whole demeanor changing, almost relaxed.

"It will speed your recovery period from your wounds from months to minutes, Lord," I reply reaching out to examine one of the vials. "Thomas' skill has surpassed my own, these are flawless." _Snape would be so proud._

"Riddick," he amended, "we're old friends remember." Without a hesitant motion, he grabbed the vials one by one and downed them, the last one he grabbed from my hands.

"Harry," I quietly give him my name watching the skin stitch together and the bruises fade. I marveled at the amount of trust displayed to me with his actions and his words.

"The taste could do with an upgrade _Harry_ ," he said drawing the syllables of my name out, as he tested the newly healed skin with a finger.

"I shall inform Thomas of our Lord's critique," I comment, amusement coloring my tone. I found myself glancing up at him repeatedly throughout our surreal conversation, taking in more of his appearance uninhibited by the metal armor- apparently taken off in the Great Hall since there was no evidence of it in here- or his shirt.

Riddick settled into the chair and propped his feet on the table hopefully unaware of my undoubtedly unwanted attention, "So, Harry, tell me about what my old friend has been doing?"

"Please, Lord, that is not an answer I can give while snakes lurk in the doorways," I reply, casting a quick glance to where Dame Vaako's aura- arriving somewhere in the middle of the regime of potions but unimportant until now- shone behind the statue. "Perhaps you would enjoy my reports and your upcoming schedule after a bath and comfortable in your chambers?"

Grinning, a feral show of teeth, he drops his feet off the table and in a single motion leans forward, scoops his shirt off the table, tosses it toward the statue, and stands to his full height. The wet sound of the blood filled material connecting with the unmoving stone wasn't enough to hide the small gasp our intruder made. "After you," his grin still firmly in place, his hands sweeping toward the door.

Leaving the room the crowd once again parted before me, this time, the entire Hall bowed, as anything less for the Lord Marshal would be of highest disrespect. _I wonder does he care about all this._ Not daring to look back to try for an answer, I continue to lead him out the Hall and to the room I had just abandoned. _Not but half an hour ago_ , the stray thought shocks me. _So much, in so little…truly time is baffling_.

"That always going to happen?" Riddick's voice breaks through my musings.

"Hmm?" I look back and follow where I believe his eyes are looking toward before turning back around. "The bowing? Yes. The highest of respect should be paid to the Lord Marshal as he is the leader of the Necromongers, the Embodiment of the Faith." I quote quickly glancing back before I can stop myself. His disgruntled expression coerces me to ask, "Is there a problem L…Riddick?

"Too much movement," is all I get in reply, but it's all I need.

"The Necromongers are an exhibition loving race, as far as killing Lord Marshals goes there is usually enough witnesses to confirm the case," I say flippantly, waving my hand around to show the almost empty halls.

"Is that so," he laughs, and just like that the tension was gone, as well as the distance between us.

Walking in silence, shoulder to shoulder, I was glad for the chance to gather my thoughts. _I wonder if he knows what he's saying to all of them by walking with me like this._

As we turned down the last corridor the link between me and the Quasi-Dead flares open, startling me with its suddenness. "Assentation Protocol?" their hissing voices breathed through me.

Turning his whole form towards me, his hand moving toward his hip but remained empty. "What?"

Relenting control back to me, "They wish to initiate the Assentation Protocol. The lift-off of the Armada and the use of the Conquest Icons scattered around the planet," I clarify quickly.

"Lift-off the ground, but the Icons remain unused and lift with us," He commands.

"As you will, Lord Marshal Riddick," they hiss again, and the link returns to its previous level of consciousness.

"Those things do that often?" He questions me as I motion for us to continue, the floors vibrations signaling that his orders were set into action.

"No," I reply, their foreign presence never failing to make my stomach churn, "However that is the least of our concerns." _Well Harry James Potter, don't ever say that your life is not interesting._


	5. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you for your reviews, and your patience; I have been swimming in 6-7 page papers for the last month. I finally had a nice chunk of time tonight to get this down and checked out. I really hope that it was worth the wait and please don't forget to leave me a review, good or bad. Enjoy!

Harry

The rest of the way, though short, was done in silence. I could tell that he was troubled by what was, no doubt, another surprise for him today. _Just get him to the Chambers and…_ and then what? Train him? Teach him about the Necromonger Way? _Yeah, sure why the bloody hell not? Let's teach him about the group that 'killed everything he knew'. He'll be ok with that I'm sure._ I snarked to myself.

Bowing automatically to the two Sentinels guarding the doors, I waited for them to open the locks, and barely missed the look of shock on both of their normally stoic faces. I almost groaned as I remembered the ever growing list of things to do, instead, I stepped aside to allow the new Lord Marshal an uninterrupted view of the room's decoration.

I followed behind him as he strode into the room taking in the large circular table surrounded by chairs taking up the center of the room. "Can we turn down the lights in here?" he asked when the doors closed.

Touching the two points of on the Collar that framed my collar bone, the lights dimmed with a thought. "Come, Lord, I had a bath drawn up for you," his cough of disbelief caused me to pause on my way to the door on the right and look at him. An unasked question swirling in my eyes similar to his, unexpectedly, uncovered silver eyes that met mine.

"Never had someone 'draw me a bath' before," he said simply, shrugging a shoulder and motioning for me to continue to lead the way. _So definitely not royalty then._ I filed away in the ever-growing mental profile.

Turning to the right-side door and opening it the steam from inside bellowed out into the cooler air masking the room until it cleared. Once I could see I walked around the small steps, which ran parallel with the walls. The steps themselves led down to the heated water in the center with steam rising from the top, the pool could fit several people easily, although, from experience only two or three people could stand on the bottom. The walls were spelled to resemble wood and the ceiling was charmed to show the stars currently surrounding them.

"Necros know something at least," he appreciated while walking on the other side, his eyes moving around taking in every detail leaving no corner unobserved, his hand running along the wall itself.

"I have always enjoyed the Baths the best as well Lord," I agreed as I opened hidden doors along the back wall revealing sponges and various glass bottles containing different smelling soaps and shampoos. Leaving them open for easy access I walk over to him and opened a taller door to his side that concealed shelves full of robes, "I'm not sure how well these will fit, but I will arrange for you to see Leanna, our head seamstress, but until then these will have to do." I say as I lay the largest one on the rack hidden behind another door.

Bowing, I backed out of the room to leave him in peace. Making my way once more to the safety of my rooms, my mind going over, and double checking, that I had everything planned out for the coming days. _Preparations for the coronation, feast after, the tour of his new holdings and home? Protocols for the journey to the Threshold, the Rites for the Dead…What else? Oh, should probably try and hammer out a schedule to fit in all of the day-to-day stuff in, will have to send that out to everyone. Hmmm, Thomas needs a gift for the healing, fuck can't forget that. Leanna is going to want to measure him, where in Merlin's name am I going to squeeze that one in? Oh, need to get Cook some more servants for all the food that he is going to have to pump out of those kitchens tomorrow. What am I forgetting… oh yeah everyone else needs to know this shit too._

Riddick

Sighing in nothing short of bliss, I submerged myself until only my neck and head was above the water. _Man, I sure could get used to this._ I thought as I settled myself on the bench beneath the water. Feeling the tension leave my body, floating off with the rising steam, I couldn't help but think that this was the calm before an unknown storm. _Look at me now Johns,_ a dark chuckle following my thoughts, _bet you can't wait to catch me in hell now you Blue-Eyed Devil._

An hour later as soft knock pulled me from my doze. _Must be more tired than I thought._ Not surprising since I haven't stopped since I left U.V.6. I lifted my head from the surprisingly soft edge of the stair above me, just before the messy black hair and emerald eyes greeted me from around the door. "I hope I have not disturbed you Lord, but I thought you might want to lay down before we begin tomorrow."

"Wish you would cut that 'lord' crap," I say noting the surprise in his eyes, even as he tries to look away to hide it.

"I'm sorry, its. Mostly habit now," he admits as he walks into the room fully. "Zhylaw was a stickler for etiquette and propriety," he continues while he walks over to the wall with the robes. "Please forgive me if it takes a while before I can use your name freely in private."

Climbing out of the cooled water, I let him slide the robe up and onto my shoulders, his blushing face turned away to avert his eyes. "How long you been here?" I asked one of the multiple questions plaguing me about the walking contradiction causing him to pause, thankfully, in his feeble attempt at straitening the too small robe.

Walking towards the door, _trying to use physical space to compensate huh?_ "I have been the Lord Marshals Right-Hand for a little over a decade." He replies, trying to sound casual but there was that hard edge of repressed emotion there that he couldn't hide from me.

"What were you before?" I press, following him out into the antechamber and toward the archway on the other side.

"Just Harry," his reply was barely above a whisper, his shoulders were tense and his whole being screamed, "escape!" _Fine, for now._

"You said something about tomorrow, this job comes with a lot of hours or something?" I watched, fascinated, as the tension literally melted off him.

"As I said, the Necromongers are a spectacle loving race, and as such there is a ceremony for everything." He said as we walked down a short hallway. "So tomorrow, bright and early in the cycle, we are going to see Leanna, because you will need at least two outfits for tomorrow, maybe three if things get too out of hand..."

Blocking out his words was the room beyond. Harry was almost to the thing that I assumed was masquerading as a bed, oblivious to my sudden stop. "You don't seriously think I'm going to sleep in that thing, do you?" I say cutting him off mid-explanation about _something_.

"Well, I had until you said that," was his blatant reply. As he looked over at me in the archway.

"Think again," I say simply, crossing my arms over my chest the sleeves overly tight with the action.

"I…what…well…" he stammered, hands sweeping about haphazardly in his lack of something to say. Laughing at the dismayed expression, he looks over at me his eyes narrowing in obvious displeasure and I don't hold back the full belly laugh, even as he crosses his arms and **pouts**. "The Builders cannot be here until the beginning of the next cycle," he says as I finally calm back down. "You may have my bed if you wish."

"I'm sure that I've slept in worse places," I say amongst a few stray chuckles.


	6. Chapter 5

A/N: I am so sorry about the long wait between posts, midterms happened :-S. So I have been playing around with Harry's backstory quite a lot between studying and have a few elements that I hope everyone will be excited about that I have decided on using. As always, enjoy!

Riddick

As I woke up I could tell that Harry and I were still alone, no new smell meant that for however long I was out no one had come to bother us as well. Peeking out, I took in my surroundings and was again surprised at the stark difference between this man and everyone else on board. Where the rest of the ship displayed everything of wealth: trinkets, statues, tapestries, and the like, Harry's room had an average sized bed, a trunk with HJP engraved above the lock, a table with the black ball on top and a chair, which was currently occupied by the very man himself. _Wonder what woke me_ , I muse.

Taking a moment to observe him while he was yet unaware of my attention, I looked on as he waved his hand and the image before him began to move and disappear. He had his left knee bent so his heel rested on the edge of the chair, his chin rested on his knee as his eyes tracked the changing image. As I looked on his tongue stuck out the side of his mouth and he wrapped his hands around the black ball and what looked like writing appeared on the screen. "Okay, that should do it," he spoke to the screen.

"Do what?" my sleep rough voice replied. His lack of reaction garnered a raised eyebrow from me, "Most people jump when I do that."

"One of my… a man that I once looked up to use to tell me 'Constant Vigilance'. I guess after… after a while, it just kinda stuck with me." His laugh was hollow, and his smile didn't quite make it all the way to his eyes. "Anyways, to answer your question I have successfully sent out an acceptable timetable for the coming festivities," looking back to the floating image he added, "a feat that has taken me three whole hours."

Sitting up and throwing my feet on the floor, I stretched with a satisfying pop from my shoulder and a ripping sound of the robe. "Good advice, now when are we going to see this Leanna for some clothes?"

"Now actually," was his response, his grin mischievous.

Harry

I allowed a small smile as I lead the new Lord Marshal, dressed in adequate borrowed clothing until Leanna had some time to make something better, toward the Command Deck. As we walked he continued to grouse about the seamstress, "Need to pull the fucking measuring tape from my ass when I get the chance. She always that _thorough_?"

"Yes, Lord. She, however, has a gift with a needle and will give you many well-suited outfits," I said truthfully. "Your interesting style choices shall herald a sweeping fad as well, I'm sure," I add before turning down the last hall.

"Don't give me such nightmares," he laughed, causing those passing us in the hall to stare.

"Your pardon my Lord, I did not mean to corrupt the little sleep that you do get," I quip.

"So where we going now?" He asked, his voice sounding slightly different than a moment ago.

"The Command Deck, Lord," glancing behind me briefly to try and read his expression. His goggled eyes were pointed toward one of the ladies walking slightly behind us, her smile was all innocents but her eyes spoke of her hunger for power. _If her top was any lower surely he wouldn't have to wait to_ _ **see**_ _anything_. Turning back around my thoughts continued since he was obviously busy with the 'lady' but didn't seem likely to wonder off. _Geez, I thought they would at least wait until after the Challenges before throwing in with him. Guess that shows me how much_ **I** _know about women._

 _"_ _Honestly Harry,"_ I barely contained the urge to clutch my heart as the unexpected pain of Hermione's voice rang clearly in my mind. _Fuck, still hurts after all this time… Oh, thank Merlin_ , the double doors of the Command Center a welcome sight.

"This way, Lord," I say, uncaring if I was interrupting his flirting. I walk through the doors, quickly sidestepping and bowing. The Generals around the table stand and bow as Riddick walks in. His goggles reflect the light as he scans the room, without hesitation he walks to the empty chair and lounges in it.

Grabbing the door handle, I begin my retreat out of the room before his growling voice pins me in place, "Where do you think you're going?"

"Lord, it is not a place for a servant," the mouse-faced man on his left began.

"And you are?" Tilting his head to the side, goggled eyes clearly looking at the man who he had interrupted.

"I am General Therin, Lord," Therin barked, bowing. I was stuck with my hand on the door, status completely forgotten, as I watched the scene play out before me.

"And tell me, _General Therin_ , did I ask **you** anything?" Riddick continued to use the strange soft voice that, coming from him, screamed of danger.

"Um, no Lord," Therin answered carefully, eyes bouncing around the people in the room. The noise behind me reminded me that I was standing in the open doorway, trying to keep the rest of the conversation private I closed the door as quietly as I could. _Goddess forbid I actually bring attention to myself right now._

"Now tell your Lord Marshal why you would answer a question he did not direct toward you?" The blade that Riddick pulled from his vest caused the room to electrify instantly. _Where in the seven hells did he get_ _ **that**_ _?_

"I beg your pardon, Lord. It shall never happen again," Therin says quickly, his eyes, like everyone else in the room, were glued to the shiv.

"Yeah I know," Riddick says as he lets the blade fly through the air. The sound of metal on metal echoes around the deathly silent room as he adds, "Because next time I won't miss." The look on Therin's face was almost priceless, but even I was unprepared for his next statement. "Now I want it understood that where **I** go, **he** goes." _Huh?_

"Lord I must object," the burly man on Riddick's right speaks up.

"And why's that?" Riddick almost sounded bored.

"This is simply no place for an Abomination such as him!" the man practically yelled. "I told Lord Zhylaw and I will tell you; they should have never been allowed on this ship, to say nothing of him continuing to be unpurified!"

Forgetting my place entirely I glared and hissed, "I would not forget why Zhylaw kept me for a pet so easily Necromonger General; nor why he left me a breeder."

"A pet with too long a leash in my opinion," the General growled, his fist resting on the table as he leaned toward me.

"Exactly," Riddick's voice cut between us, "and you can keep your opinion either alive or dead, your choice." Even as he talked to the other man his goggled eyes rested solely on me.

"I accept you're Challenge Lord Marshal," he replied venomously as he stormed out of the room, nearly sending me to the floor as he shoved me out of the way. The rest of the room slowly trickled out leaving me, once again, alone with the Lord Marshal. _I wonder what he's thinking._

"What he mean by accepting my challenge?" he asked me as the last person left closing the door behind them.

"It's a battle for position. One-on-one combat, winner take all." I say, wrestling with the whirlwind of emotions that was swirling around my core.

"Let me guess, I get to play 'Who's the Better Killer'?" he asked, sarcasm lacing his words.

"That would be one way to put it, Lord," I agree. "I will formally apologize for my behavior after your victory, for now, let us get you ready; the Challenge must commence one hour after it is accepted."

He stands from the chair and walks over to me, "You sound confident, what makes you so sure I'll win?"

"Because, Lord, _he_ does not have a Wizard in his corner."


	7. Brief Interlude

A/N: So I would have liked to make this announcement with the next chapter attached to it, but unfortunately I have had trouble with that as well. I am here to say that I have full intentions of posting soon but with a broken leg and finals week I have not had the time or mental capacity to really put any effort into the next installment. I will be seeing the doctor on the 24th, hopefully, and from then on I should be able to post with a semblance of a "normal" schedule.

So, I'm having problems with this next chapter because of my inability to make decisions, and the character's themselves are indifferent so no help from that corner. The problem that I am having, at this particular moment, is that I'm unsure if I should have Riddick and Harry peruse a relationship or not, or with whom. So I call upon you guys to help me if you are willing.

I am going to hop on over and make a poll, my first ever so please bare with me if everyone who is interesting in the story would kindly participate I'm interested in how everyone is feeling about this particular aspect of the story.

Thank you,

Richard B. Potter


	8. Sorry I've been gone so long!

Hello, Dearies!

My enforced sabbatical has ended! Let us have a moment of silence for RBP's previous laptop *bows head*. I haven't been entirely idle with my time, but I haven't had a stable computer until now so I have much to transcribe. Chains the Bind Me will continue but will be shelved momentarily as I lost most of my notes for future chapters. I am reworking previous chapters so to fit the new direction that I am going to take it but don't worry there aren't too many changes; however, some events (i.e. the initial throne room scene) has changed. I have a few one-shot's that I would like to share in the meantime that I hope are as entertaining.

Sincerely,

Richard B. Potter


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